


(all i want to do is) get next to you.

by redhoods



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, the coffee shop stoner au you never knew you wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The barista, he figures out, is named Scott and just a little clumsy, though he manages not to spill Isaac’s drink when he pushes it across the counter with a boyish smile and customary, “Come back soon!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	(all i want to do is) get next to you.

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [(Всё, что я хочу это) быть с тобой](https://archiveofourown.org/works/914531) by [arisu_aiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arisu_aiko/pseuds/arisu_aiko)



> because patrick wanted coffee shops and shot gunning.
> 
>  _that when the pretty boys try to get next to you, they really just want to have sex with you._ give it to me, the maine.

So, really, Isaac isn’t usually the type to buy into commercial coffee chains and they’re fancy names for shit (because really, what’s so wrong with calling things small, medium, and large, just like everyone else?), but he doesn’t really have an option when the hole in the wall place he had been frequenting since the beginning of the semester gets shut down. It’s not like he can just quit caffeine cold turkey, a guy has needs, which is how he ends up in line at Starbucks, scowling at just about everyone within a five foot radius.

Well, scowling until he reaches the front of the line and Isaac is left staring at the barista who is practically emitting rainbows from every orifice. (Which, just, usually no, but it works for this guy in a sort of puppyish way that makes Isaac want to pet his hair and seriously, _what the fuck_?)

And, as great first impressions go, he doesn’t realize he’s staring until the guy behind bumps into him rudely and Isaac tosses a scowl over his shoulder before turning back and stuttering out his order. (Which, again, _what the fuck_? He was pretty sure the last time he stuttered, he was eight and Lydia Martin had let him borrow a pencil.)

He also manages to get out his name and pay without any more fumbles before moving on down to wait for his drink. The barista, he figures out, is named Scott and just a little clumsy, though he manages not to spill Isaac’s drink when he pushes it across the counter with a boyish smile and customary, “Come back soon!”

Isaac leaves in a daze, not even scowling at the woman who nearly bowls him over to get inside, but then he’s at school and being rudely snapped out of his daze by his English Lit professor, his fingers itching to pull out a joint and light up right there in class. (Instead he stares at his nearly empty Starbucks cup with his name on it in what passes for the barista’s handwriting.)

By the time his final lecture lets out, Isaac is torn between going to his dorm to smoke and going back to Starbucks to see if the barista is still on shift. And, really, he doesn’t remember being this much of a chicken, because he’s almost there, _almost_ and then turns around and walks back to campus to get high alone in his dorm.

And the pattern continues for a week and into a second week.

Of course, that’s until his supposed best friend practically tortures the information out of him (withholding a man’s candy is just cruel and unusual,) and, really, Isaac loves Erica, but every time she gets that look in her eye, it means trouble. (No, really, he’s pretty sure he still gets nightmares from the Derek pink tie dye shirt incident of 2011.)

Which he tells her this, but she just laughs, calls him a chicken, and says if that he doesn’t do anything by Friday, she will. And, obviously, that means Friday has to come faster than it ever has in his life.

He just barely convinces Erica that she doesn’t have to tag along just to make sure he doesn’t chicken out again before he’s making the trek towards Starbucks and there’s Scott (it took him a few days to convince himself that it wasn’t weird to call him by his name, given that Scott had his coffee order memorized by day three), standing outside, smoking a joint.

And, well, his higher brain functions cut out and by the time they come back online, Isaac is face to face with Scott, offering to share his stash, if Scott’s up for hanging out. Which is how he ends up in the passenger seat of Scott’s beat up green car that sputters to life when he turns the key, “So where are we going?”

Scott offers him a grin that’s all sunshine and puppies and rainbows (and, really, gay much, brain?), switching his joint from one hand to the other and then back like he’s trying to figure out how to hold it and back out of the parking spot without burning himself before he gives up and holds it out to Isaac, “You’ll see. It’s a great place.”

Isaac nods, not really listening, just staring at the joint before he figures, what the hell? and brings it to his mouth, taking a drag. It’s pretty much the same stuff he has in a baggy in his pocket, but he savors it anyways, releasing the smoke slowly through his mouth into the car, and when he glances over, Scott is watching him with an indiscernible expression on his features that makes Isaac wish they were already there.

The car behind them honks and breaks the tension, prompting Scott to pull through the intersection, and Isaac finds himself watching out the window, still smoking the joint, the smoke hanging heavy in the car because neither of them have seen fit to roll down a window to let it out. And by the time Scott has pulled into the parking spot, the joint is pretty much gone and Isaac can already feel the warmth settling in his bones.

Before he even realizes it, Scott has a hold of his hand and is tugging him towards the trail that winds through the forest and Isaac is helpless but to trail after him. And Scott keeps glancing back at him, as if he doesn’t believe that Isaac’s really there and it causes Scott to trip but they both laugh, pressing into each other’s sides as they keep going.

Isaac isn’t really sure how far they’ve gone when Scott suddenly veers off path, leading him through trees and underbrush like it’s a route he takes everyday.

It’s obvious why Scott was leading him here. The place is secluded, obviously not visible from the trail, and right on the river bank with plenty of flat rocks for sitting on, but neither of them pick one to sit on, both settling down on the ground, despite the leaves crunching under them.

He manages to produce the baggy out of his pocket, passing it to Scott’s waiting hands before he pulls his lighter out of his other pocket, waiting until Scott actually has a joint out before he clicks a flame to life. It’s definitely worth sharing his stash to watch Scott wrap his lips around the spliff and take a drag.

Definitely worth it.

Really, Isaac is content just to sit back and watch Scott smoke, until Scott waves the joint in his face, grinning when Isaac finally comes out of his stupor to take hold of it, “Thought I had lost you completely there for a sec.”

Feeling his face heat, Isaac just shrugs a little and ducks his head, bringing the joint to his lips and taking a long drag off of it before tipping his head back to blow the smoke up.

Next to him, Scott makes a strangled noise and before he can question it, Isaac has a lapful of the other male, not that he really minds the development in the slightest. There’s already spots of color appearing on Scott’s cheeks, barely visible with his darker skin tone, and something hot curls low in Isaac’s belly when he takes another drag and Scott’s eyes are focused steadily on his lips.

It all makes sense when Scott’s fingers grip his jaw, before he even has time to exhale the smoke, and presses their lips together almost roughly. Then Scott’s tongue is coaxing his mouth open and he’s greedily pulling the smoke into his own mouth, pulling away barely an inch to exhale it, eyes heavily lidded and almost completely black.

He’s tempted to forgo any pretenses of smoking, but Scott makes the decision for him, tugging the joint from his hands and bringing it to his own lips, and Isaac feels sort of helpless, leaning back on his hands and watching Scott above him.

Scott takes a few drags before he’s pressing back in, breathing the smoke into Isaac’s mouth and, really, he’s not responsible for his own actions, curling his fingers around the back of Scott’s neck to keep him from going anywhere, licking into Scott’s mouth once all the smoke is gone.

He’s not sure which of them makes the needy sound, but Scott is pushing at his chest until he sprawls back on the ground, just barely managing to keep from smacking his head off the ground because he’s fairly certain nothing would kill the mood faster than having to make a trip to the emergency room because he split his head open. And he’s also not sure what happens to the joint, but he can’t really bring himself to care about that.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you,” Scott mumbles into his mouth and, oh.

It’s not the best of kisses, their teeth clink and Isaac’s pretty certain they split one of his lips open, but he can’t be bothered by that when Scott’s making these needy little sounds above him, grinding his hips down in little, jerky movements.

One of his hands ends up tangled in Scott’s hair, the other pushed under the bottom hem of Scott’s shirt, pressed against warm skin and also keeping hold of Scott’s hip as they move, rutting against each other, desperate and needy and Isaac can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed about it. 

Especially not with the constant stream of sounds that Scott is letting out. And especially not when Scott stiffens above him, mouth pressed against Isaac’s jaw, and whines, honest to goodness _whines_ , as he comes.

And, Isaac’ll be damned if that doesn’t make him feel good about himself, even if he’s still painfully hard in his jeans. Scott pulls back, looking sheepish, but he’s grinning and his lips look kiss swollen and Isaac really can’t fault him, though it does feel nice, better than nice, when Scott gets a hand between him. It’s not exactly comfortable through his jeans, but he still finds himself arching up and coming embarrassingly fast, panting as he slumps back on the ground.

Scott is still grinning and just simply slumps down over him, warm and slack with his weight pressing Isaac into the hard ground, his face pressed into Isaac’s neck, absently worrying a mark into Isaac’s skin (and, yeah, he’s a little bit okay with that).

He isn’t quite sure how long they stay there, enough time for his jeans to get uncomfortable, before Scott is pushing himself up off the ground and dragging Isaac with him. It takes them a little longer to get back to the car than it did to the spot, stopping occasionally to crowd each other into a tree and share a sloppy kiss before they keep going, giggling like school kids and holding hands.

And, obviously, they make out in Scott’s car for ten minutes before Isaac can drag himself away, walking a little stiffly towards the dorm building, only turning back once to wave before he continues on, determined to call Erica, eat, and get a shower (though not necessarily in that order).

And, well, if the next morning, Scott already has his drink ready by the time he comes in, no one comments. And no one comments on the fact that Scott’s number is scrawled on the cup just under his name with a crooked smiley face. (Well, except for Erica when he shows up to the class with the cup.)


End file.
